


Milk

by kurlinsprite



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Accurate Portrayal of Mizusei lmao, Depression, Inspired by Milk - Sea Oleena, M/M, NSFW, Overdose, Suicidal Urges, Suicide, Vauge Sex Scene, attempted suicide, depressed character, emotionally manipulative relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurlinsprite/pseuds/kurlinsprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love with Sei was something that happened easily. Keeping him alive was not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Milk

When they first met, he was as thin as glass. His hands shook as he lifted them to wave hello, and his smile faltered easily. Aoba said he wasn't right yet, not to push him. Mizuki hadn't done that at all. 

Sei was the one who leaned his head on his shoulder during the movie, and the one who asked Mizuki out on the date to begin with. He'd been the one to kiss him first, to lightly draw his fingers through his hair and call him beautiful. He was the one who'd asked to move in with him.

Mizuki didn't know what Aoba was talking about, Sei seemed fine to him.

At first, it was a matter of watching him. When his legs would start to hurt or a headache was starting in on him, Mizuki would watch Sei take his medicine. He'd shake the bottle gingerly, taking four or five doses and holding onto the handful of pills in contemplation. Then, he'd replace all but one tablet, and close the bottle.

He'd catch Sei's eyes tearing up out of the blue. Resting a light hand on his shoulder, he'd ask what was wrong. Sei would gently push him away, giving a little shake of his head.

Mizuki would notice when Sei would wear long sleeves although the day was baking hot, and when he'd refuse to remove his top in front of him. Again he'd asked, assuring him that it was fine, that he though his body was lovely. Sei hadn't said anything.

He'd noticed other things as well, like how Sei spent an extra long time in the shower, how he'd brush his bang back out of his face. He'd watch as Sei made himself a nightly drink, warm milk with sugar. His hands would shake as he stirred it and poured the sugar in, getting the small crystals all over the counter. 

A month later, terrors kept him up, and he cried and wailed into the blankets until Mizuki awoke. Sei would begin to turn up in odd places around the same time. Wet faced on the kitchen floor, pot of milk abandoned and sugar spilled on the counter above him. One night up, he was lying cold just outside the doors to the terrace. No matter how tightly Mizuki held onto him at night, his arms could never contain him.

When they did embrace, Sei would hold tight to him. He'd curl his cold fingers in the fabric of Mizuki's clothes, and press his face into his shirt. He'd beg him to hold him tighter, to not let him go.

When they made love the first time, Mizuki didn't know what to expect. He'd pressed Sei down into the bed, hands skimming up his pale back underneath the thin shirt he wouldn't take off. It was cold, Sei was so cold. And he didn't warm up to the touches. He clutched onto the pillow beneath him and cried thick tears as he begged Mizuki to keep going. Many times that night he tried to stop, but every time Sei would beg, no, please, please keep going. Mizuki was the only one to finish that night. 

Sei had kissed him softly, and left for the shower. Mizuki told him that he loved him, but Sei didn't turn around.

It was only a week later that Mizuki had come home from his shift at the bar, and found Sei, slashed open on the kitchen floor. When he'd woken up in the hospital, Sei told him that he hated him. 

That was when he'd stopped eating. He'd eaten fine in the hospital, whatever the doctors told him too. But no matter how many sweets Mizuki bought him, or how many nice candle-lit dinners he'd cooked all by himself, Sei wouldn't consume anything but his normal milk and sugar once he came home. Mizuki had told him over another supper for one that if he didn't eat something, he'd die. Sei had just sipped his milk. 

He'd tried to jump a night later. The apartment was on the second floor, an eighteen foot drop from the tiny terrace, onto the gravel parking lot below. The cool wind blew his eyes dry, and he'd stopped himself, only because he didn't want Mizuki to find him again, and get him help before it was too late.

He'd quietly entered their room a minute later, telling Mizuki he'd just needed some fresh air. He didn't think Mizuki believed him.

Next came the pills. Sei took three every morning, two to regulate his heart, and one vitamin. At night, he took five, two for his depression, one more vitamin, and two for his arthritis. He was allowed three painkillers and one sleeping pill in a day. Mizuki tried to keep him from taking too many, but he did anyway.

"Why do you do that?" 

"Do what?" He'd asked so sweetly, tapping a fourth painkiller into his pale hand.

"You're taking too many." 

"No I'm not." He says, rolling his eyes, taking the pills with a sip of water. 

"Don't take anymore tonight."

Sei shook his head, slowly.

"You're going to kill yourself if you don't stop."

"Good."

Mizuki couldn't keep his eyes from welling up with tears, pressing them shut. 

"Am I not good enough for you?" He asks, pressing his hand over his mouth. 

Sei kissed his forehead lightly, whispering, "No, you're too good for me."

And like that, he was gone. 

They couldn't chalk his death up to one thing. Suicide by overdose, coupled with heart failure and malnutrition was what the hospital had said. He'd passed in his sleep, and Mizuki would always regret sleeping on the couch that night. 

Aoba held his hand at the makeshift funeral. It was a small affair, just Mizuki, Aoba's family, and some friends of theirs. Sei's caretakers from Platinum Jail attended it as well, but neither of them spoke to anyone but each other, in hushed voices. Aoba cried, but Mizuki didn't.

He knew that this was what Sei wanted, after all.


End file.
